I am a 23-year-old male who has been in a relationship with a great woman for four years now. She is an amazing person, and we oftentimes talk about marriage. The issue is this: I have a foot fetish, and she is fully aware of it. She doesn’t like the idea of me kissing her feet or indulging my fetish in any way. We have sex quite often, and I’ve always let it slide that she doesn’t want any part of my fetish. I don’t know what to do, because I’m at a stage in my sexual growth where I need to experience my fetish. I’m getting mixed advice from different people, and I just want a straight answer. The sex we have is amazing, but I would enjoy it so much more if I could act on my desires once in a while.
Sexually Frustrated Fetishist

Here’s a straight answer: Your amazing girlfriend is an amazingly selfish lover, and I’m amazed that you’ve put up with her bullshit for as long as you have. A foot fetish is not uncommon or outrageous; as fetishes go, SFF, yours is the least taxing for a non-kinky partner. It’s not like you’re into shit or choking or Christian side-hugs. Any amazing woman who truly loved you would regard indulging you as a no-brainer.  READ MORE?

I had went into this store when I was in high school, in the middle of a small town and where nothing really special went on. It was the late 80′s, sounds of Duran Duran and The Thompson Twins pervaded the airwaves. I was burning inside, I just wanted to smell women’s feet, I didn’t care where, I didn’t care how. I would go into stores and pretend that I was a pledge for a fraternity, a fraternity what never existed. I was seventeen and didn’t care… I went into an arts and crafts store pretending to look around, there was a middle aged woman behind the counter and she looked at me warily as I lazily checked out the knitting and painting supplies.
“Can I help you?”, she asked in a bored tone. “No, I’m just waiting for someone”, I sheepishly said. I continued to look around. She had to ask me more about what I am waiting for I thought as I continued to look around, pretending to be interested in the arts and crafts. After about 10 minutes, curiosity got the better of her and she asked who I was waiting for. “Score!” I thought as I went through my spill of how I was a pledge for a fraternity and I was meeting a girl who was going to put me through my final test. She threw her head back and laughed, “What is the final test, sweetheart?” I told her that the girl I was expecting was going to make me smell her feet for about 10 minutes. She gasped and a sly smile came across her face. “My word, and you would do that?” she exclaimed. “Oh yes” I said, I went into the explanation that I really wanted to be a frat boy and would do whatever it took. There, of course was no woman who was going to be coming in, it was all made up. I waited there for about 1/2 and hour and tried to visibly look more depressed as time went on. “Well I can write that I let you smell my feet if you want”, she said. I was so happy, we had made small talk in the 1/2 hour and I was no more of a threat to her than anyone else who might have come into her quaint little store that day. Her hair was dyed red and she had beautiful makeup and accented the light, baby blue of her eyeshadow with a bright red lipstick that was skillfully applied to her full red lips. She had a smattering of freckles, she must have truly been beautiful when she was younger. Big baby feeding breasts that barely fit under the blue blouse that she was wearing. I readily agreed, I said that it was important to me that I earned my entrance into the fraternity. I was passionate about it.
She thought for a second, staring off into space and then told me that if I could keep a secret that she guessed that she could let me smell her’s under the counter. She warned me more than several times that she had been on her feet since 8 a.m., and it was now about 5 in the afternoon. She was wearing a nude color of cheap store bought pantyhose to boot and she has said that her black heels were about 5 years old and they made her feet stink. I told her that I would try the best that I could to tolerate the smell and she guided me to come behind the counter and kneel down. There wasn’t a soul in the store and she slipped her heels off and said “I have pretty feet though”, smiling broadly. They were very pretty indeed. Her toenails wee painted a bright red and she had a gold toe ring on the second toe of her right foot. She pointed her toes out toward me and I cupped them reverently in my hands. As I examined them, agreeing with her that her feet were beautiful and very pretty, I got my first whiff of her foot odor. It was sweet and bitter at the same time, her feet smelled like peaches. This was going to be great, I thought. she asked me to kneel down so any customer that may come in would not see me servicing her pantyhose clad feet.
I kneeled down and she waved her left foot teasingly over my face. I got a taste of her feminine foot odor then. The bottoms of her feet were wet. She fed me her feet one at a time for a couple of minutes, then she said that it may be more comfortable to me if I laid down on my back. I thanked her and did as she asked. She giggled as said that she was timing me. Only now, when she planted both of her sweaty feet over my face, did I get the full effect of her smelly feet. Her nametag read “Susan”. I was in heaven. She started talking about when she was in a sorority, which was in the 60′s. She must have been in her late 40′s then, I concluded. The more this situation went on, the more comfortable she seemed to be with the situation. She asked me if I could breathe, as she laughed, cocking her head to one side. I said it was fine. She also asked me if I thought her feet smelled good as she was rubbing her pantyhosed feet, wet with her sweat, on my face. I thanked her again and said it was fine. She announced “5 more minutes, your almost done” as she continued to rub her feet across my face. She seemed to examine her pedicure as she crunched and spread her toes. Her soles were firmly planted over my nose, but I could feel her muscles working and looking over to her toes, could see that this was what she was doing. Pantyhose worship at it’s finest. This is when I started getting into pantyhose worship and nylon worship. Maybe even this one encounter, really setting things off for me. I gently placed my hand over the tops of her feet and gently rubbed them. Feeling the warm nylon and smelling Susan’s sweaty feet, I was in heaven. She looked down at me smiling broadly, and looking at me, almost in a motherly tone. She then announced “2 minutes”, she took her left foot and placed it on my forehead and took her right foot and tilted it to the left and spread her toes and cupped them over my nose. “This foot is the smelliest”, she said, giggling and cupping her toes hard, so hard that I had to start breathing out of my mouth to get oxygen. “Sniff, sniff”, she chuckled, staring down at me with the sweetest look on her face. I breathed deeply, breathing in the essence of this woman’s perfection. …And it was over.
I got up, knees trembling, 1/2 hard and stood up. “Eww, I can smell my feet on your face”, she wrinkled her nose at me and I breathlessly thanked her. “Oh anytime dear”, she squealed. I left the store, trying my best to keep my composure. Into the sultry evening that followed, making sure to keep Susan’s feet smell on my face until I got home and could masturbate to what had just been one of the best days of my teen life.

I was out today and came across a girl who was registering people to vote for some sort or proposition outside of the grocery store. She was average looking and older, I would say mid forties. As I was in the process of politely declining her offer and stating the nature of the upcoming voting measure, I looked down at her feet, which were encased in a blocky pair of strappy sandals. OMG, she had long, full toenails, which were painted a deep purple with little diamonds curving up to the tips of her toenails.
I took a deep breath and stopped. I politely commented on the beauty of her feet, then she immediately started telling me about how she was just doing the job to make ends meat, how she was a secretary, and with the economy blowing ass, like it is currently, how she was doing odd jobs to make ends meat for the time being. I saw this as an opportunity… I told her that I was a foot fetishist and how I loved women’s feet. I told her that I would gladly pay her for the privilege of smelling them and worshipping them.. Usually at this point, whatever women I am talking too, either politely excuse themselves or call me a perv… which, I proudly am
Instead, she said that this arrangement may be something that she is interested in. We exchange phone numbers, I tell her I just live 4 blocks up the street and quickly go home to masturbate, not only of the vision of beauty that her feet were, but of the possible upcoming situation that may be happening 4 hours from now. that was the time she told she she would be done with work, etc.
Suprisingly, 6 p.m., sharp, she calls, sheepishly asking if I had been serious, breathlessly, I said I definitely was, she retorts that she will be over in 20 minutes. I can’t believe it!
She actually showed up, and after I had offered her a drink, we made some small talk and she asks about the money. I whip out the funds and she starts to excuse herself to wash her feet. I plead with her not too, I tell her how much I enjoy the way that womens feet smell. She is like “really?” Lol, they all say that. I get on my knees and remove each of her shoes. The light from the sun, reflecting off of her long purple toenails. I start to smell. The odor hit me like a ton of bricks. They were stinky! I just wrapped her toes around my nose and inhaled deeply. I loved it, thanking her in between deep breaths. After a couple of minutes, when I had started sucking her sweat off of her toes, she asks me if they “smelled good” OMG, yes, YES, I said, thanking her again for the opportunity. She is embarrased, but still rubbing her feet all over my face, say’s “I wish that more men did what you do” I agreed with her as I start licking the soles of her feet. She finally relaxes, tilting her head back, enjoying me servicing her. I finish up, her scent I can smell, from my face now. I thank her and hug her, although she leans her head away from mine, as I am sure that she caught a whiff of her own foot sweat that was now embedded on my face. I had a semi erect cock at that point, I ask her if she ever needs help again, that I am just a phonecall away. She takes the cash and leaves… I go back to my bedroom and masturbate again with her foot sweat still invading my nostrils and then shower and go to bed, thinking about the foot worship that just took place. I love my life!